Villain
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Just a short one-shot :) Then his smile started to fade. "But will you do it again? Make me your villain?"


**Hi, readers! This is just a one-shot I decided to write. It's sort of a sequel to my story, What We Had, but can be read alone too. I own none of the characters (unfortunately) but I hope you like it. Reviews are very appreciated. Enjoy! :)**

**Villain**

They stood in front of the mirror together.

The girl who had been a saint, with tear tracks staining her cheeks and the sour taste of their argument still on her tongue.

The boy who had been a monster, his eyes downcast, shame shadowing his features.

She stared at herself for a quiet for a long moment. Her hair was brittle and white, old snow from long-gone winters. Her eyes were the brown of autumn leaves. Dead. Hollow. She wondered why she'd thought their powers' return wouldn't change this: the old connection. The old hunger. The old darkness. He was infecting her again.

She could see him behind her. His arms were folded over his chest and he refused to meet her gaze. His lovely shock of coal-black hair fell over his forehead as roguishly as ever. She couldn't see his eyes-they were still fixed on the floor-but her heart ached to think of them. Glimmering and gray, quartz and steel. He was having trouble showing his softer side now, a decade since their powers had come back to them. The hunger was drawing him in, even though he fought it every day. They both knew the truth. She was the only thing keeping him sane. But was she going to lose him.

A painful bolt of agony shocked her. _Will I lose you? After all this time I thought you were mine?_

The saint in the mirror opened her mouth and she found that she was speaking. "I can't do this. I won't do this."

He sighed, but didn't raise his gaze. "I know."

"I'm serious," she replied. Her throat hurt and she swallowed hard. "I'm not going to watch you take over again. Become a demon."

He visibly flinched at her words. "I'm not a demon," he said quietly. He unfolded his arms and opened one hand, palm up. Ribbons of darkness seethed from his fingers, tiny strings of black beauty in the air. "It won't control me."

"How do you know?" she asked chokingly. She shook her head. "I...I'll leave, you know. Run away again. I'll have no part in this." She brushed her thumb over the ring on her finger. It shimmered like falling tears. "I-I'm not afraid to leave you."

He lifted his head then and looked at her with raw pain in his eyes. "Alina, I can't...I can't lose you," he managed, as though the words were dragged from him. "I'll lose everything."

She couldn't give in, because if she gave in, he would fall to his darkness. "If that's what I have to do, I'll do it. You aren't the Darkling anymore. But if you become that again, I can't love y-"

"Don't," he pleaded, cutting her off. "Don't say it."

They stood in silence for a long moment.

She took a breath to say something, but stiffened when she saw him step toward her. The words stuck in her throat as she made his way to her, until he was standing right behind her. She imagined that she could feel his body heat seeping into her back. Moving cautiously, as though he thought she was breakable, he skimmed his fingertips up her arms to the short sleeves of her blouse. She didn't move or react, but the goosebumps that rose on her flesh betrayed his effect on her. Her eyes followed him as he nosed her hair away and gently brushed his lips to the curve of her neck.

He paused when he came across the scar she had never shown him, a small redness on her skin from where a collar of bone had dug into her neck. He met her gaze in the mirror. "Alina."

"It's fine," she replied instinctively. "It's not like it hurts anymore."

The sadness in his expression was too much to bear. He tenderly kissed her scar; then he buried his face in the place between her neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent and becoming drunk with her. She could see it in the sleepy way he closed his eyes, the tremble in his shoulders that showed how helpless he was in her presence. Relief pricked her heart. _He still loves me. He's still Aleksander._

"Aleksander,"she began aloud, intending to apologize, reassure him, anything.

He exhaled shakily at his name. His arms snaked around her waist, stopping her next sentence. He pulled her against him and she let him, folding her hands over his on her stomach. He looked down at her fingers tracing circles up his arms and a rueful smile curved his mouth. "I guess I was right," he murmured thoughtfully. "You did make me yours." Then the smile started to fade. "But will you do it again? Make me your villain?"

"No," she answered. She turned her head to look at him, so close to her that all she wanted to see was the stormy color of his eyes. "But you can let me help you now, and stop the darkness before it's too much. Make me your redemption."

And he did.


End file.
